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OUR CHRONICLE 



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or '26. 



SL Sbutivltnl ^oetn. 






:> 



u|^ Mores, et studia, et populos, et proelia, &c. 

V^flP' Virgil. 

. . ..... Yes — I have a trick 

Of the old rage ! — bear with me — I am sick— 
I'll leave it by degrees. — Soft ! — let us see — 

Write — Lord have mercy on us 

Shaespeare. 



WELLS AND LILLY— COURT-STREET. 
1827. 



Sl\ii^tvti^tmtnt. 



The following Poem was prepared and intended for pub- 
lication on the first of January last — but circumstances that 
could not be avoided have prevented its appearance until 
this time. Forming, however, in a degree, a collection of 
Reminiscences of the past year, and of some previous events 
connected with them, it is presumed that it may not be 
wholly uninteresting as a " gentle Chronicle of the tymes", 
and that eighteen hundred twenty-six has not got to be an 
old story, though we are some four or five months advanc- 
ed in 1827. 

June, 1827. 



ARGUMENTUM. 

The Poet, in two stanzas, gravely discourseth of the past year. The 
criminal character of Almanacs and Almanac-makers. Figure of 
this poem. Different kinds of immortality on earth. Patriots — 
Ships — Priests — Pills — Love — Law — Logic — College reminiscen- 
ces. Poetry. Reviewers — Going to Congress. Way to get there. 
Congress. President cares nothing for Congress. Minister to Pa- 
nama. Salaries nine thousand dollars nothing. Mr. Webster. 
Mr. Sergeant. Mr. Anderson. Bankrupt Bill. Composition of 
debts. Law. Habeas Corpus. Crazy Senators. Mr. Holmes. 
Pocahontas. Dixon's line. Secretaries. Never should fight. Consti- 
tution-menders. Mr. M'Duffie. Supreme Court of United States. 
Law again. Ladies no lawyers. John Randolph insults them in 
the galleries. Saratoga. Good waters for Mr. Troup. Bolivar — 
not married — Captain P****r. Pirates. Court Martial. Mexico. 
Ocean. Lafayette. President quarrels with the Commodore. 
Steam-boats. Nahant. Boston. Fulton line. North river Land- 
ing. Catskill Mountains. The Springs. New York — Mount Wash- 
ington. Falling of the White Mountains. Death of the Presidents. 
Eulogies all nonsense. Commencement held in an old meeting 
house. College life. Phi Beta Kappa. Mr. Justice Story. Un- 
christian law about ballotting. The society no toast-makers. Clas- 
sical Literature. Greece. Lord Cochrane. New York. Melancho- 
ly state of heathenism there. Castle Garden. Robertson. John 
Cleves Symmes — A good and sensible theory. Grand Jurors. 
New York trials. Jacob Barker. Greek Frigate. Four Theatres. 
Mr. Kean. Philadelphia. Col. Pluck. General Jackson. Mr. 
C**y. The Reviewers. Etymology of Fine fellows. North Ame- 
rican — has a good deal of natural affection. U. S. Review. Poets 
no editors. Novels. Ladies. Romances. Jasper Murphy. No 
Romance in North America. Indians. Europe. America. Meet- 
ing of Congress. Conclusion in the manner of an Arabian Story 
teller ! 



OUR CHRONICLE— OF '26. 



I. 

Hark to the knell of Time ! the dying year 
Flings its last farewell to the cheerless world — 
Stern nature comes to drop one frozen tear, 
In the dim mantle of her terrors furPd ; 
While saddened man casts his fond looks behind, 
And shivering pours his sorrows to the loud bleak wind. 

II. 

The seasons pass unheeded — and the tale 
They murmur in our ears unheeded too, 
Until we listen to this wintry wail 
Of our departing days — and then how few, 
Alas ! what dreams their shadowy forms appear, 
Sinking for aye, in the irrevocable year. 

III. 

There's nothing moral in an Almanac — 
But, take it as you will, 'tis quite profane : 
Full of strange riddles that your patience rack, 
Wit in despair, and jokes brought forth in pain. 
It has no dissertations on reflection. 
And flouts you if you dare to talk of retrospection. 

IV. 

The men who make such visionary books 
Are felons in the act of pamphleteering ; 
And each should eat the weather that he cooks,(') 
Were I his judge — and that w-ithout a hearing — 
For, bothering us with circles and elipses, 
The soul, say they, meanwhile, may suffer some eclipses. 

(') See Dr. Clarke's account of the punishment of Russian malefac- 
tors. — Travels^ ^c. 



6 

V. 

" An undevout Astronomer is mad." 
But madder is the man who (") coins the year! 
He never had the manners to be sad — 
His past salvation never cost a tear ; 
Indeed he is not given to reviewing, 
So pestered with events Futurity is brewing ! 

VI. 

Not so with me. My wayward song shall run 
Back on our path like a well practised hound ; 
And mine shall be, unlike that damned one, 
To save my curse, an almanac turned round ! 
A sober matter and no miracle. 
Sometimes sad — and sometimes sad-satyricaL 

VII. 

There is a wizzard influence with most men 
To seek what they seem born for, low or high — 
Tis no partic'lar question how, or when — 
A kind of mundane immortality, 
Which having won, and finished all they meant, 
Each dies content — a pauper or a President. 

VIII. 

Some seek it in the sea of battle — and 
They die in pride, if victory light their plume — 
And some in virtue and that love of land 
A glowing record on a patriot's tomb : 
And thus they moulder on th' historic page 
Or brighten as they curse or glorify their age ! 

(2) Some of these coiners have undertaken to speak lightly of that 
ancient and grave strain of prophecy about the weather, which, de- 
fying the authority of all barometers, is to this day seen running 
through the pages of the almanacs, in italics. The innovators have 
parodied this important part of the calendar even unto ridicule. As 
they value the patronage of the yeomanry, let them beware ! 



IX. 

Some seek it too, in building lofty bark§ 
In towering state to whiten o'er the blue ; 
Pouring upon our shores like modern arks, 
The chaos dun of Afric and Peru — 
Resolved to prove an enterprising nation 
And make the sea all canvass with their navigation. 

X. 

Some seek for immortality in robes — 
In learning deep — ecclesiastical ; 
And some in dreaming over stars and globes, 
And finding nothing out, at last — at all ! 
Such is the vanity of human wishes, 
And such the taste of man for strange ungodly dishes. 

XI. 

Some seek it too in making pills — round things 
That wake unseemly broils, and wring the soul 
Into a sickly hopelessness, which brings 
A. bill to pass, and that, upon the whole. 
Is a hard dose, which many take quite ill, 
Because of doctor's pills, the bitterest is the bill. 

XII. 
An immortality in love ! — some men 
Will have their heaven on earth — and many find 
A joy in telling what their hopes have been, 
And how they calculate on womankind. 
Perfectibility, with them, is marriage — 
A country seat — a book, wine, children, and a carriage ! 

XIII. 

Some seek for immortality in law, 
The high-priest of professions — but 'tis known 
That many wights have come to it so raw, 
That from the temple they have quickly flown — 
Finding that fame required them to be rusty, 
Versed in the types of old and smelling somewhat musty. 



8 

XIV. 

And some in logic and the " lore of nerves" 
Or scowling metaphysics of the schools — 
Squares — parallelopipedons and curves, 
Doctrines that turn strong-headed men to fools — 
Yet I confess, to save dispute and schism, 
(^) There's Reason's very thunder in a syllogism. 

XV. 

'Tis the home thrust of mighty sophistry — 
A putting to the trumps of giant minds ; 
The cut that makes us to our wits end fly, 
The edge that on our patience grits and grinds ; 
In genteel slashing far the luckiest hit, 
The broad-sword of the soul — the pigeon-wing of wit ! 

XVI. 

O ! I do well remember when in college. 
How we fought reason — battles all in play — 
Under a most portentous man of knowledge, 
The captain-general in the bloodless fray — 
He was a wise man, and a good man, too — 
And rob'd himself in green whene'er he came to ('*) screw. 

XVII. 

Some seek it too in writing poetr)' — 
Not half so good as this — and Heaven forgive 
If they, or any one should think that I 
Expected on such fame as this to live — r 
But so it is — if we can win Parnassus, 
We crown ourselves forthwith, to let reviewers lash us, 

(3) To prove it, look at the admirable one in the Sketch Book at the 
end of the Legend of Sleepy Hollow. 

(*) For the information of the inexperienced we explain this, as a 
term quite rife in the universities — and taken substantively, signifying 
an intellectual non-plus. 



9 

XVIII. 

But never mind reviewers — they're but weeds — 
And rank ones too, that in perpetual motion 
Dip in the stream of Poesy, and must needs 
Poison its current to the world's great ocean — 
'Tis best to top them, there can be no question — 
Silent contempt at last will mend their indigestion.(5) 

XIX. 

Then comes the glory of all dignities — 
The splendid consummation of the mind ! 
The soaring climax of whatever is, 
The peerless immortality of wind ! 
To win your way to Congress — wife and all, 
And prove your lungs are patent, at the Capitol ! 

XX. 

There is no earthly honour walks with this — 
It is alone in its simplicity, 
Severe and unapproach'd and full of bliss, 
Paid for in gold and letters all mark'd " Free" ! 
Have you a soul — and do you wish to live ! 
Hazard your soul — but be a Representative. 

XXI. 

It is no matter how you gain your end — 
But gain your votes — there all the mischief lies ! 
Swear that the (^) constitution you will mend, 
Swear that you'll dabble with French courts of prize — 
Swear hugely you may be depended on, 
And ere your oaths are out you'll be in Washington. 

(^) Strange propensity in men to snarl at the critics! — Now we 
know them to be the most jocund, hurtless, ingenious body of gen- 
tlemen imaginable. The difficulty lies in the complainants. 

See Goldsmith's Essay on Unfortunate Merit. 

(^) It is now generally admitted by deep politicians, that any tolera- 
ble man who will advertise that he has discovered a new way to 

2 



10 

XXII. 

My song begins with Congress. I have been 
For twenty stanzas back in serious doubt, 
Whether to dash at principles, or men ; 
And thus alternately play'd in and out, 
In a chromatic kind of overtura, 
Best prelude to a stormy, rattling, bold bravura \ 

XXIII. 

Long months have fled, since by a right divine, 
The right of suffrage, our stern senators 
Hied here in scores, to legislate and dine — 
With equal glory to make love and laws ; 
Determined also, as the scandal ran. 
To prove the President was no republican ! 

XXIV. 

But little cared the President for them. 
Sly and secure he chuckled in his chair, 
And in a message of exceeding phlegm. 
Told of the burdens he was bound to bear — 
Still, as they could not send him to " the tower", 
" I'll let you know" said he " my sentiments on power.** 

XXV. 

So to the very magnates of the land. 
With firm resolve but no thought sinister, 
He swore, as men do sometimes, in command, 
He to the Gulf would send a minister — 
To gild, as a most reputable star, 
The diplomatic firmament of Panama. 

make a President, and can produce his vouchers, has good claim to 

a seat in Congress. 

" Let us assemble 
And, on a safer judgment, all revoke 
This ignorant election." — Coriolanus. 



11 

XXVI. 

Nine thousand dollars is no C) salary 
To men of mercury or men of sense : 
And 'tis ignoble in a world to fly 
To calculations of its pounds and pence, 
In getting coats and carriages for men 
Who but reflect its fame and lustre back again. 

XXVII. 

What would the Percy of Northumberland 
Or he of Devonshire exclaim at this ! — 
Nine thousand dollars ! — purchase a hat-band — 
Or dole it out in gew-gaws for a Miss ! — 
But never think of dinners or levees — 
And as for national regard — you have the lees ! 

XXVIII. 

And so they fell to talking of the mission. 
Some thought the thing no business of their own, 
And some that we should all go to perdition, 
While Mr. Webster bang'd them up and down ; 
At last they thought it prudent to knock under, 
Convinced the President would not commit a blunder. 

XXIX. 

And Mr. Sergeant (^) Hngers still behind. 
And Mr. Anderson is dead — alas ! 
The very Congress has walked off" to find 
A climate tolerant by common brass ! 
Where fell disease no more shall come to harrow — 
Besides for such a host the Isthmus was too narrow. 

C^) Luisius, ambassador at the Hague, of Frederick William the 
Vandal King of Prussia, cut some wood in the gardens of Hous-Car- 
dick, which then appertained to the royal house of Prussia. His next 
despatches brought him word that his gracious master had stopped on 
this account a year's salary, to defray his damages. The ambassador 
cut his throat in despair with the only razor he had. It is a wonder 
our ministers are not equally desperate, not because their salaries are 
stopped, but because they are so pitiable to set out with. 

{^) Since this was written we have heard from our able minister 



12 

XXX. 

Next came the Bankrupt Bill — drafted, they say, 
From all the English acts of desperation — 
To keep poor debtors from the curse of pay, 
And creditors in due procrastination. 
It has a hundred sections — short and long — 
Very benevolent, and simple as a song. 

XXXI. 

But these insolvent laws w^ere not the thing 
To grace the morning of a dynasty — 
And so the giants said "we'll let it swing. 
This Bankrupt business till another sea- 
Son, then we'll meet it with our might and muscle, 
And try this boasted opposition at a tussle." 

XXXII. 

C) But then the Bill will choke them — there are men 
Of slow capacity in such deep things 
As these pro-rata dividends — and when 
You talk about the comfort that it brings 
To be absolv'd at sixpence on the dollar, 
They think it all hum-drum, and scarce contain their choler. 

XXXIII. 

There's a strange notion that the legal robe 
Wraps cheat and cunning in its folds— What then ? 
'Tis the redeeming mantle of the globe. 
The pia fraus that saves the sons of men ! 
What would you do without a Habeas Corpus ? 
And who in dungeon vile would not have such a law pass. 

well on his way to Mexico the place of sederunt of the imposing con- 
clave. 

(^) So it has issued. This terrible, blessed bill has met its doom for 
this time — and the old cotton and the new woollen worlds are in 
tears. — " O fortunatos — si sua bona norint." 



13 

XXXIV. 

Nature is law — if cheating it be calPd, 
It cheats man into being first of all : 
Then cheats him into marriage — and when bald 
And aged grown, it cheats him of a fall 
Into some ignoble place of burial — 
For law, alas ! will dig our graves with speed mercurial. 

XXXV. 

There is a thin and swarthy senator 
Mad with much learning and a tongue o'er free, 
Who not content to live by wit and law, 
During the long vacation goes to sea. 
He is a kind of literary weasle 
And holds the glorious place of legislative teazle. 

XXXVI. 

He has storm'd onward now for twenty years ; 
Flashing and brilliant as the meteor, sent 
O'er southern skies, when all its dewy tears 
Are falling from the starry firmament ! 
Such is his pathos when he stirs the ladies. 
And summons shapes and sounds alike from Heaven and Hades. 

XXXVII. 

He is the licens'd jester of the court — 
A petty pyrotechnic politician — 
Moving with all a razor's royal port, 
The bilious general of the opposition. 
The dull and dubious all declare him crazy — 
But then in genius he's a perfect Esterhazy ! 

XXXVIII. 

He cast a curse on Panama. Indeed 
He could not well do better and be civil, 
For every measure waits from him the meed 
And honour of dismissal to the devil — 
For so it is, in spite of waxen noses, 
The better it succeeds, the stronger he opposes. 



14 

XXXIX. 

He is a walking reservoir of gall — 
The evanescent essence of all bile — 
And should he find his spleen is growing small, 
He'll daily ride a sharp back'd horse a mile, 
To stir his godly juices to their duty 
Of pouring alcohol on government, and beauty ! 

. XL. 

He is the thinnest senator on earth — 
And has a voice the thinnest of his gender ; 
But to what thrills its eloquence gives birth, 
Go ask the riv'd and galvaniz'd offender ! 
Sometimes far north his withering fancy roams. 
And you may get particulars from Mr. H****s. 

XLI. 

To be a senator — and drink strong beer ! 
To ape a man and yet insult the sex ! 
To keep a score of porter boys in fear, 
Lest breaking bottles you should break their necks ! 
To legislate in shirts, and spout in spurs ! 
Not Pocahontas' self would own you son of hers ! 

XLII. 

Shame ! Shame ! Virginia, for a deed like this — 
Where is the pride that honour'd thee of yore. 
When thy great sons could each call glory his. 
And each the wreath of fame triumphant wore ! 
(^°) Go — let thy wild one, hence, neglected pine. 
Or teach him there is virtue north of Dixon's line. 

C^) The good, bold " ancient dominion" never long forgets her self- 
respect. Accordingly she has anticipated the effect of our stanzas ; 
and her ex-senator has now an opportunity for two India voyages 
uninterrupted by these troublesome duties of state, in the upper 
house. 



15 

XLIII. 

But then the mischief of the matter was, 
That he who walks our civic walls as (") warder, 
Being dead set against sedition laws, 
Was not religiously disposed to order — 
And thus no amateur of prohibition 
He open'd the war- gates to meet the opposition ! 

XLIV. 

'Tis very simple in a secretary 
Not to confess himself downright afraid, 
And in all duel matters to be wary, 
Nor put his Clay in hazard with a shade. 
But so it w^as — not keeping his blood cool, 
He sought that shade ; who fought, and went to Liverpool. 

XLV. 

There is a kind of tinkers in the land. 
Who think that charters are like china-ware; 
Though shiver'd by a young and heedless hand, 
Made stronger and more perfect by repair : 
I've heard of scriveners and ticket venders. 
But keep me, above all, from Constitution-menders ! 

XLVI. 

Oh ! what a glorious theme this good old deed, 
Fram'd by our sires and written in their blood, 
For Hotspur legislators in their need. 
To take speech-making fortune at its flood ! 
I can't but pity Mr. George M'D^=^*^e, ('') 
He finds his hearers so impenetrably — stufly ! 

(") The Vice-President has redeemed himself in toto — for he has 
just issued unscathed from the furnace of a political investigation. — 
Still— 

De quo libelli in celeberrimis locis proponuntur 
Huic ne perire quidem tacide conceditur. — Tull. 

('^) It would seem perfectly proper to recommend this gentleman 
as a commissioner to prepare an expurgated edition of the Constitu- 
tion. — Vide Plato's Repuhlic, passim. 



16 

XL VII. 

So let it be forever ! and Amen 
Rolls from the waking millions of the Free ! 
What ! dare profane that charter with a pen, 
Our fathers seaPd in dark extremity ! 
'Tis near as bad to keep up such a thrumming — 
'Twere better business, far, to (") pistol Mr. Gumming. 

XLVIII. 

Then Mr. Justice Marshall's court began — 
" Full of Q*^ strange oaths," and penalties and pains ; 
A long dull term of dry and sober fun, 
The everlasting tournament of brains ! 
Wilt that sublime " encounter of their wits" 
By giants all ensconc'd in documents and writs. 

XLIX. 

Ladies are fools in Chancery — and I 
Must think the crazy bachelor half right, 
Who thought a penchant for the gallery 
To see a pack of hungry lawyers fight. 
Was worse than maidenhood — or widowhood — 
And on the whole, conducting as no female should. 

L. 

Besides, John thought that such a bevy met to 
Chat, laugh, and lighten over Congress floor. 
Or come to witness Mr. Webster's set to, 
Polite as you might call it — was a bore — 
" So on you all" says he " I levy war. 
For there's a Congress Hall for ladies, at the Spa." 

{*^) The same honourable gentleman has seen fit to give us a 2d 

edition of this interesting work, during the late session. Seriously, 

for a man of courage and a man of honour — and we sincerely believe 
him to be both — we cannot but consider Mr. M'Duffie's course singu- 
larly unfortunate, as well as impolitic and unworthy of himself. 
" Qiie7n Deus vult pei'dere" &c. 

(") Strange indeed ! — for hke uncle Toby's, they are all " register- 
ed." " There shall be no foul oaths uttered in my dominions — but 



17 

LI. 

Oh ! Saratoga — mother of all springs ! 
With sad salt water for a world of ills, 
Home of all anti-atrabilious things — 
Patent diseases — pyramids of pills — 
Where interesting charmers dip and drink 
Twelve tumblers at a heat, for fear their health will sink* 

LII. 
Thou should'st be sainted — for the world Jias been 
A long and pious pilgrimage to thee ! 
Wit, wealth, and want thj summer shrine has seen 
Struggling to test thy briny mystery — 
But little southern silver hast thou gotten 
Owing, they say, to deep depravity in cotton ! 

LIII. 

By thee there's nothing deem'd immedicable — 
Coughs, pains and plague, consumption and the croup ; 
And some have thought thy strong chalybeate able 
To move the sturdy, costive Mr. T*^*p (^^) 
And help him to an easy comprehending 
Of things he cannot come at now for want of bending. 

all thy swearing shall be under seal, that I may know if thou profanest 
by the proper Gods." — Dion : 

C^) Subsequent matters have settled the question of this gentle- 
man's incurableness. We must naturally doubt the efficacy of tonic 
waters, where the very attic salt of the President has proved so una- 
vailing. — Vide Lieut : Vinton. Mr. Adams'' divers Messages, ^'c. As 
to the idea of Georgia's standing out against the Union ! — a small 
committee will settle that business very quietly — at present it is a 
total curiosity. 

" By the Lord our plot is a good plot as ever was laid ; a good 
plot — good friends — an excellent plot, very good friends." 

Hen: IV. 






LIV. 

But ah ! four stanzas for the springs must do ; 
It is a subject long as the canal — 
Some Horace yet will make ye all look blue, 
Patients of Mr. Clinton's hospital ! — 
And having by him worlds of attic salt, 
God grant he dose ye down — sound, sickly, hale and halt- 

LV. 

But lo ! a trumpet bursting from the South — - 
And rolling round the Andes long and far ; 
The thunder-echo of fame's brazen mouth 
Over thy path, imperial Bolivar ! 
Glory and arms — revenge and liberty ! 
And for thy thanks the anthem of the free i 

LVI. 

There is a shout of welcome on thy way 
The deep voice of an empire calls to thee 
To hold thy splendid march right on — nor stay 
Till from the mountain summits thou shalt see 
An ocean-girt, emancipated land ! 
Spurning for life and light oppression's palsied hand 1 

LVII. 

Columbia and Columbia ! twin stars 
To brighten in the firmament of time, 
When men shall dream of both Americas, 
And each shall live in memory sublime 
As the dim, awful monuments that tower. 
Still stern in years above old theatres of power ! 

LVIII. 

We hail thee sister of our own glad land ! 
Where the high pine yet bows upon the breeze, 
As erst it did, when its green branches fann'd 
The dark brow of the wild man — and the trees 
Sigh'd to the passing Indian, in his rude 
And homeless wandering through nature's solitude. 



19 

LIX. 

But I was speaking now of Bolivar ('") 
And Bolivar's not bullet-proof to scandal — 
For being Liberator is no bar 
To such a hungry, hundred-headed Vandal. 
And so she swore he had committed marriage 
Or was to, — ^but it proved, all over, a miscarriage. 

LX. 

Because 'twould be particularly stupid 
For such a reputable conqueror 
To yield his sabre up to general Cupid, 
While he had glory left worth fighting for — 
" Before, then, over to the sex I go" 
Said he " 1 must make matters mend in Mexico." 

LXI. 

Poor Mr. Captain D***d P****r ! Ye 
Who cannot in your country have your say so. 
Be sure immediately and put to sea. 
Though ye have fought like death at Valparaiso — 
It is a noble way to cool your blood. 
When you can't make your grievances well understood. 

LXII. 

And yet the government can hardly know 
What 'tis to cruize all summer for a pirate. 
In that infernal gulf, where every blow 
Will knock about a frigate at a high rate ! 
Besides, in that hot climate to be resident. 
Is something pretty different from being President. 

(^^) Many of our countrymen have been so silly as to doubt the 
great moral resemblance between Washington and Bolivar. Believ- 
ing, as we do, that there are ten thousand years yet in perspective 
each to be blessed with a thousand orations on the 4th of July, it 
argues little regard for posterity to drive this interesting notion out of 
the company of those flaming patriotic sentiments, that are kept in 
reserve, like the holy fire of old, for coming anniversaries. 



20 

LXIII. 

But so it is — ingratitude was rife 
In ancient Greece — and why not in America! 
You cannot help such business for your life — 
In generous matters nations are hystericky. 
And when they wish to punish or be partial, 
They try the hero's crucible — a long court martial. ('') 

LXIV. 

Yet where are braver than our naval sons! 
And who can boast a Porter's lion heart ! 
Who sent the echoing mandates of his guns 
On wings of terror to the crowded mart — 
No matter — government is wrong, and he, 
For Mexico, away, — upon the bounding sea! 

LXV. 

The wilderness of waters — and his sails 
Are rounding 'neath the canopy of clouds — 
And all are listening as the night wind wails 
In its wild music through the shrieking shrouds 
The foam comes dashing on the straining mast 
And the wet dancing sea-bird screams along the blast ! 

LXVI. 

And so the patriots won the commodore — 
They promised too, to make him Admiral — 
He thought his wages could'nt well be lower. 
And as, in priestly phrase, he had a call. 
He acquiesced with wondrous gravity, 
Convinc'd, this once, of national depravity. (^^) 

C^) This miJitary tribunal is an infinitely greater pest than the old 
star-chamber of the mother country. 

That repubHcs are ungrateful, moreover, seems to be rather a gra- 
tuitous assertion. Among ourselves, for instance, no man, who gains 
a victory or survives a court of enquiry, can escape the triumph of a 
pubhc dinner. The first is called the feast of glory, the other the din- 
ner of compassion. 

('^) On the whole, we consider this quarrel as quite amusing. It 



21 

LXVII. 

But you must ask peace-making Lafayette, 
About that glorious, sad misunderstanding. 
The " bright particular" Presidential pet, 
Which he just had a charitable hand in — 
But ah ! no adept in such fooleries, 
He thought it best to go home to the Tuilleries ! 

LXVIII. 

The captain called upon the general ; 
And as he stood upon the palace stairs. 
The Father of his people, from his hall 
Came forth, deep pondering on state affairs- 
He nodded and passed on — into his coach 
As though in dudgeon at the commodore's approach ! 

LXIX. 

This was particularly hard. For one 
Who was of such " fine frenzy" 'twas a poser — 
Mere looks have fatal faculty to stun, 
From such a high political Mendoza ! 
But Mr. Adams had forgot his Bible, 
Or he had lov'd the captain better for his libel. 



X 



LXX. 

But now the revolutionists have got him 
To lead to immortality their navy, 
I much mistake, while chuckling they have caught him^ 
If he don't sometimes overflow his lava, 
And teach the dun republics to their marrow. 
They had no time at all with Cortes and Pizarro. 

reminds us of some of the bristling times between the honest Eighth 
Harry and his courtiers. We think the issue, however, perfectly- 
proper ; — and wish the naval hero all success in a sphere where his 
fine nautical talents will be called into wide exercise. He will ever 
be an American. 

" Calunif non animum^ mutant, qui trans mare curruntJ*^ 



22 

LXXI. 

I think these steam-boats are unruly things, 
Having a boiler — it has often burst 
And made a rumpus — for it always brings 
With its hot gush, the torments of the curst — 
There's one that runs from Boston to Nahant 
To carry idle men, who mind their business — can't ! 

LXXII. 

Nahant is like to any barren rock, 
Basking and baking in the summer ray — 
Where ladies bonnetless the sunshine mock. 
To make them brunettes in the natural way ! 
You have a beach, some billiards, but no trees — 
And go there just to catch the serpent, or a breeze. 

LXXIII. 

Upon the whole 'tis something very quizzical 
To see so much of fashion in the fog — 
And scholars throwing off the metaphysical. 
To wait on belles in hot days of the dog ! 
And that too in the ('') home of all the blues, 
Sea grass in front — behind you, Lynn and all its shoes ! 

LXXIV. 

Yet Boston is an enterprising place. 
And one of those fine cities where we go 
To test the charms of literature and grace 
And beauty, too, far better than so so — 
The State House is a monster — and looks down 
In spite of Park street steeple, on the glorious town. 

C^) We believe this promontory of sociability has lately been ad- 
vertised in the Gazettes — and the huge hotel with its classic billiard 
house offered for sale. Any one who has an inclination to build a 
light house— or live like a sea-king, will naturally attend to this op- 
portunity. 



23 

LXXV. 

There are some handsome palaces, and squares^ 
And all looks brilliant when the skies are blue , 
A common, dedicate to cows and fairs — 
The birth place of our independence, too — 
There is much done by way of navigation — 
In short, it is the next best parlour of the nation ! 

LXXVI. 

It has a spaciousness of soul we love — 
A length and breadth of thought we all admire ; 
Pride, taste, munificence — all things that move 
To great exertion — When there's been a fire, 
They do not linger o'er the ashes long, 
But blocks — banks (^^) market-houses summon back my song. 

LXXVIL 

They have a mayor, I say it without flattery, 
The noblest of his calling, but alas ! 
Mall or no mall, they've nothing like the Battery, (^') 
Or streets all magic with the glare of gas ! 
They are immortal for promoting knowledge, 
And many a noble (^^) legacy "goes to college." — 

LXXVIII. 

But then these steam-boats. I have had my doubts 
Whether with engines never so gigantic, 
Back'd by the Barings and by Mrs. Coutts, 
The speculators had not wax'd romantic. 
Who thought to drive such things like four in hand, 
From Land's End, over sea, to us, and Newfoundland. 

(^°) This splendid Bazaar yields to nothing even in the beautiful 
Philadelphia — not to the works of Fairmount itself. 

(^^) It is vain to girdle Frog-Pond with a little wall of white granite, 
and vain to exterminate the ropewalks. The Battery is still unri- 
valled. Mill-dams and flats are utterly incompatible with a sea-view, 
as painters have told us. 

(22) The neighbouring university, it is said, is now suffering under 
the infliction of a heavy bequest, from a worthy cx-governor, lately 
deceased. 



24 

LXXIX. 

Alas ! the fallibility of steam ! — 
Look on the glorious Hudson of the hills—- 
Upon the deep-embosom'd mighty stream, 
Whose splendid bounty a wide empire fills, 
Behold the shade of Fulton flitting there — 
And casting o'er his land a look of long despair ! 

LXXX. 

Such are the thanks of men — and such the measure 
They mete to our best memories — and our deeds — 
Such is the inclination to low pressure 
When high is asked for by our names and needs ! 
So, as both patronage and piston fell, 
The old, time honour'd Union-Line thought best to sell. 

LXXXL 

Yet scores still thunder by, with long black smokes 
Beneath the nose of Anthony. At night. 
Ah ! then, to us imaginative folks, 
They seem like shooting palaces of light !— 
Or Jack-o-lanterns bound to Albany — 
Or from that, down to Gotham, as the case may be. 

LXXXII. 

They have a godless custom on this river. 
Of landing passengers by rope and yawl (^"^) — 
In such a dashing way it makes you shiver. 
Because the boat wont stop, meanwhile, at all ! 
I deem it right to wish each captain broken. 
Who will not back his wheels, from Champlain to Hoboken* 

(23) We have been informed that this savage style of stoppage in 
transitu is " against the statute." — And in one instance, that a captain 
and some of his passengers, were lost in the attempt. It becomes all 
honest citizens — especially those liable to hydrophobia, to discontinue 
their patronage while the steamers persist in this vile practice. 
"'Tis double death to drown in ken of shore." 



25 

LXXXIII. 

Oh ! Catskill (^*) — summit of three thousand feet, 
And something upwards ! on whose startling brink 
Seems to stand Jove's tremendous country-seat ! 
Where men whose souls can feel forget to think — 
Where Poets come to dally with sublimity ; 
And lovers to restore their injured equanimity. 

LXXXIV. 

What an ambition man has for bravado ! 
And how he spurns, and sports with gravitation — 
On toppling crags to build an Eldorado, 
Of fashion for so notional a nation ! 
Indeed, a hotel on a precipice, 
A very daring, glaring, shuddering matter is ! 

LXXXV. 

But go to Catskill if you miss the Springs, (^^) 
Those silly, sacred, carbonated fountains ! 
Because you have some very proper things 
To stir your wonderment upon the mountains— 
But 'tis a sin to take your wives and daughters 
To those sick, saline, super-saturated waters ! 

LXXXVI. 

I would not, for a salary, be severe — 
But what with mountains, rivers and canals — 
What with its steam-boats, and their shocking gear. 
Sky-taverns, Wall-street, springs and watering halls, 
New York will loom upon all future time 
The grandest, gayest, sharpest, sickliest of our clime. 

(2*) Vide a charming description of Pine Orchard and the mountain 
palace, by the editor of the New York Statesman, in 1825. 

(^^) tt is said that the liberal principle of these waters is some- 
times successful in breaking up the most inveterate j)reju(Iices — both 
church and political. If this be the case, we should be glad to have 



26 

LXXXVIL 

But hark ! the roar of thunder, where the peak 
Of Washington uplifts itself to heaven, 
And crested eagles linger — as to seek 
A place to catch the parting blush of even ! 
As though at twilight's stilly hour they came 
To droop their pinions there, amid the sunset flame ! 

LXXXVIII. 

Lo ! where the flood is in its might, and pours 
Bounding resistless down its mountain dell, 
Till round the beetling crags it rolls and roars 
And heaves the grandeur of its billowy swell — 
As if in haste in its wild tumbling flow 
To join the revelry, thunder and mist, below ! 

LXXXIX. 

To speak in unsophisticated prose, 
In dog-days the White mountains took to coasting ;(^®) 
And whelm'd, one night, as every body knows 
Each object in the path-way of its posting — 
Indeed it was a most uncommon slide. 
So Mr. Crawford says— the iron-muscled guide. 

XC. 

But as we stand upon the towering hills 
O'er the wild landscape steals the note of sadness, 
And with the sinking sun a death note thrills 
Above the echoing jubilee of gladness ! 
Joy's evening trumpet o'er the world is blown. 
And to the soil they won our Patriots have gone down ! 

all the fountains, for one season, appropriated to the sole use and 
behoof of some of the polemical clergy and nltra-republicans. — 
" A little water clears us of this deed." 

Macbeth* 

(^') See Neal's Goldau for the best description of this kind of 
avalanche. 



27 

XCI. 

Minds of a deathless memory ! away 
Beyond the thanks and flattery of men 
When ye can beam no brighter for the ray 
Of burning eloquence — or splendid pen ! 
Here, then an empire should bend silently 
^ith thoughts too deep for utterance over such as Ye ! 

XCII. 

Would that the dying worthies had but spoken 
Emphatic vetos about eulogizing ! 
For North American is much mistaken 
To think those (^"^j death-songs any ways surprizing — 
They are at best, half history, half narration, 
^, very decent, social sort of lamentation. 

XCIII. 

So would the British literati swear. 
And what such critics swear to must be true— 
They'll say it was ^ puerile affair, 
Which when we get some older we shall rue; 
A mighty matter which has often been, 
rhe burying of two honest, dead old gentlemen. (^') 

XCIV. 

Now for ourselves to make a serious stanza. 
We wish the business had been managed better ; 
Because a single eulogy would answer, 
And do the great ones justice to the letter. 
Such as a central speech in Fed'ral Hall 
jrot up by Mr. Wirt or Webster at the Capitol ! 

{^'^) The 1st number of the American (Quarterly Review — lately issu- 
sd in Philadelphia — a work, by the way, of high merit, and destined, 
IS we believe, to take a commanding place in our literature — contains 
I just and sensible article upon these funeral orations. It seems to 
ell all the truth about them. 

(2**) Such, in fact, was the account given in a Canada Journal of 
he day, of the decease of our venerable patriots! We have not the 
rery words, but the spirit of them. From remarks so insufferably 



28 

XCV, 

It certainly is quite preposterous 
To hold a literary triumph in 
A revolutionary meeting-house ! (^^) 
Alas for the nine muses ! time has been 
When sweet Minerva v^ould have storm'd like Hector 
To curse her with a temple of such architecture ! 

XCVL 

And then to know what horror 'tis to be 
A green-horn at a college ! — when the sneer 
Of pride presumes your positive degree 
And old heads chuckle at your young career — 
Ah me ! — it is a beautiful ambition, 
Much heated, maltreated, and spurr'd on by derision. 

XCVII. 
Till comes the fourth, the splendid harvest year, 
And reapers multitudinous go forth 
To gather in the golden produce — here 
Are acres of orations, and so forth, 
The glorious nonsense that enchants young hearts 
With all the humdrumology of " getting parts." 

XCVIII. 
Then comes Commencement day — and discord dire 
Strikes her confusion-string, and dust and noise 
Climb up the skies — ladies in thin attire. 
For 'tis in August — and both men and boys 
Are all abroad, in sunshine and in glee 
Making all heaven rattle with their revelry ! 

childish and silly they would have us conclude that such men as 
Jefferson and Adams were common in England or her dependen- 
cies ! — Credat Judceus ! 

(^") It is hardly credible, but certainly true, that the great literary 
festival of the first university in our country, is held in an aged, un- 
imposing meetinghouse !— A spot the most dreary, unfortunate and 
unclassical that can be conceived of. 



29 

XCIX. 

Ah ! what a classic sight it is to see 
The black gowns flaunting in the sultry air, 
Boys big with literary sympathy 
And all the glories of this great affair ! 
More classic sounds ! — within, the plaudit shout, ~ 
While Punchinello's rabble echoes it without ! Q") 

C. 

It is a fearful and a thrilling sight 
To gaze on Beauty on this day of fans ! 
When all is joy, and ecstacy, and light, 
And there's a waving of a thousand hands, 
And gems and plumes, all worth a salary, 
Doom'd to be jamm'd in Dr. Holmes' gallery ! 

CI. 

The South pours forth her loveliness — and lo! 
The bright imperial girls of sunny climes 
Sit in their centered charms' transcendent glow, 
Presiding stars o'er academic times ; 
For in divine attraction's splendid trial 
Our northern gentle dames must quail — there's no denial. 

CII. 

So ends this mighty circumstance ; and then, 
The next day comes the climax of the glory ! — 
Thanks to the ribbon-girdled Thebans, when 
They trust their cause with Mr. Justice Story, (^') 
Who rules delightfully in law and fiction 
And makes Minerva plead to Federal jurisdiction ! 

(^°) Here is one of the interesting accompaniments of Commence- 
ment in the meetinghouse aforesaid. Tlie holiday extends to thou- 
sands of those who have no particular classical pretensions, further 
than can be recognized in a certain penchant for such jubilees, con- 
tracted by attending them for years, as hangers-on. On this devoted 
day these noisy do-nothings collect with mummers, monkeys, bears 
and rope-dancers, and hold their revels just beneath the windows of 
the tabernacle where the literary triumph is enacting. 

"Tum saeva sonare 

Verbera, tum stridor ferri, tractseque catenae." 

(^') See Judge Story's interesting Address on the last Anniversary 
of the Phi Beta Kappa. 



30 

CIIL 

All hail ! Phi Beta Kappa ! sacred band 
With stars and satin in jour button holes ! 
And ye ! neglected bright ones of our land, 
Calm towards our fair fraternity, your souls ! 
'Tis no damnation you're not voted for 
But a sad, mad stupidity they're noted for! 

CIV. 

Indeed, to make the tHing unanimous 
Makes but a despot of some costive fellow; 
And never to propose young men of nous 
Argues the brotherhood has got quite mellow— 
For what a tier of anniversary guns! — 
Wassail and wine and wit — punch, pungency and puns I 

CV. 
But I'll dismiss our grave association 
With all the learned, starry lore it boasts ; 
Praying the body corporate on probation 
Till it has learn'd to manufacture toasts ! 
For ne'er will time another such a pack see 
If we can credit Master Buckingham's Galaxy ! 

CVI. 

Classical literature ! (^") alas ! I 
Believe those little scribblers are quite wise 
Who swear dead languages again should die, 
And pass into the limbo of all lies. 
There's something patriotic in the notion 
Of giving turnpikes, stocks and trade our deep devotion. 

(^-) " Away with him — away with him — he speaks Latin." — Jack 
Cade in Henry VI. 

Literary enthusiasts are quite testy on this subject, at the present flay, 
if the absokite utiUty of classical learning- is brought in question. This 
is natural, it touches the life of some among us. — A number of spirited 
articles on this topic, elicited by the Address of the learned Judge just 
mentioned, appeared last season in theCentinel — a leading Boston Jour- 
nal. They were met on many sides with hard words from the ama- 
teurs of the classics — but they were certainly able, and well written. 



31 

CVII. 

Four years we were in College purgatory— 
Now, Greek is foolishness to us — but then 
They said, without it life was nugatory, 
And man a simpleton — ah ! days have been, 
When these things were not so — and one could be, 
All Greekless as he was, devoid of felony. 

CVIII. 

In literature — I think Thucydides(^^) 
The tyro hand to lexicon will fetter ; 
And that poor rascal to be pitied is, 
Who cons Longinus. (^^) Edmund Burke is better, 
Touching on beauty and sublimity, 
And such high things that stir up our divinity. 

CIX. 

But then the simple-hearted gentlemen. 
Who keep up such a bluster for our age. 
Would lead crusades for Greece revived again, 
Having for modern things so fine a rage ! 
'Twere well to make a mission of such writers ; 
And send them 'gainst the Turks in gunboats or in lighters. 

ex. 

I think wild Mr. Cochrane would be glad 
To boast a corps of such volcanic creatures; 
That if, perchance, he should get money-mad. 
He could write down the Moslems in all metres; 
Batter with essays on sobriety. 
And teach them to treat Athens with propriety. 

(^^) See the Plague of Athens. 

(^^) Longinus, treating of the SubHme in writing, undoubtedly had 
reference to the species of verse we have adopted, when he spake so 
eloquently of Metre and the heavenly nature of Rhyme in general. 
nPOHAGE St TO ftM-gov * 3 0», &c. — Metrum a Diis prlmum venit. — • 
Fragmenta IJ. E. Cod. Ms, Par, 



32 

CXI. 

New York is thrice-tremendous — overgrowing 
Each other icity without rhyme or reason ! 
Its motto is, "continually a-going" — 
And stillness and stagnation is high treason ; 
Except that low stagnation in the gutters 
Which calls down on the Mayor and Council many mutters. 

CXII. 

Yet 'tis a heathenish metropolis, 
Where, strange to say, they sanctify their swine — 
And as in Egypt leeks (^^) were deities 
So here they hold their rambling pork divine ! 
They deal in gas light to set off the dark 
And stand unrivall'd for their shipping, pigs and Park. 

CXIII. 

And there is Castle-Garden — in dry weather 
A place already noted for the lions — 
And there with fan of ivory or feather, 
Come trooping in the dear delighted Dians, P^) 
Hunting for pleasure round a large balloon, 
And ready to go up, for fashion, to the moon ! 

CXIV. 

But Mr. Robertson was very silly 
A silken coach expensively to deck 
And travel up a road so very hilly 
For thousands that care nothing for his neck! 
For one who soars on such exalted wings 
We hoped he long ago had got above such things. 

('^) The Leek was undoubtedly a melancholy deity — the God of 
Tears. Juvenal thus immortalizes it — 

And should you leeks or onions eat, no time 
Would expiate the sacrilegious crime. — Sat: XV. 
Who, after this, should not do all he can by means of hexameters to 
drive the abovenamed quadrupeds out of the freedom of the city ! 

(^) "Thick as autumnal leaves that strow the brooks 

In Vallombrosa." 

When Lunardi first ascended from London, he was regarded as an 
infernal, and spectators kept at holy distance from him and his bon- 



33 

CXV. 
Now Mr. John Cleves Symmes has just the soul 
To magnify such scientific daring;* 
He would ride ten balloons into the pole 
And prove his " Theory" while you was staring! — 
'Tis true the man is hypothetical — 
But that don't prove him headstrong or heretical. 

CXVI. 

It is exceeding foolish to deny 
The hollow system of this solid man — 
Indeed I think it easy to descry 
Where his excavatory plan began ; — 
All men are hollow-hearted ; — that is settled — 
And as for these sad heads, though oft-times heavy-metaPd, 

CXVII. 

They have a fearful ringing at some seasons, 
Like to the sound of sympathetic drum, 
That gives the sternest unbelievers reasons 
To think their being vacant is no hum ! — 
And where the head and heart are both so hollow, 
That earth, their common idol should be, seems to follow. 

CXVIIl. 

In short, though that's a wretched syllogism, 
I think the House should make appropriation ; ('"*^) 
[Spite of the chance that later times may quiz 'em] 
And show some soul about investigation — 
Give Mr. Symmes the outfit that he urges. 
And make him consul general for both " Verges." 

fire. But now, O lux mundi ! Mr. Robertson finds a lady ready to 
flit with him, Madame Blanchard's fate to the contrary notwith- 
standing ! 

p7j Whether Mr. Symmes' petition be laid on the table or not, we 
hope an Utopian Committee will be appointed to consider all resolves 
founded on a belief in the perfectibility of a tariff or election system. 
We humbly conceive that Mr. Symmes is far less visionary than 
some of our feverish legislators. Meantime we wish, heartily, he 
may find the nadir — " Sic itur ad a.<ff7-a" / 
5 



34 

CXIX. 

Grand Jurors are grand fellows, every where — 
The very spirits of suppressed resentments ; 
Who calculate the social wear and tear, 
Make up their minds, and then make up presentments : 
They lately have gone through an incubation 
In which they all cried " havoc !" without reservation, 

cxx. 

And shook the walls of Wall-street half asunder ! (^^) 
Indeed it is a melancholy story. 
That honest men in stocks are apt to blunder, 
And lawyers, sometimes, lose their fees and glory ! 
For Jacob Barker, ready for all tunes, 
First pleads, provokes a fine, and pays it in doubloons. 

CXXI. 

And then those huge Greek frigates ! — the contractors 
Are under hard digestion, as they say ; 
Though one of these devoted manufactures 
Y'clep'd the Hope, is bounding on her way ; — (^) 
Let all good breezes speed her like a bird, 
Lord knows she long enough has been buj; " Hope deferr'd" ! 

CXXII. 
Four Theatres (*") in one city is too bad ! — 
Yet they're the best of opposition stages ; 
For if they don't get money they'll get mad, 
And rest content with moonshine for their wages — 
They'll find some night how wisely they are doing 
And play whate'er they may, 'twill be the " Road to Ruin" ! 

C^) The story of the failures of 1826 is too mournful for any thing 
short of Alexandrines — and we have forborne. 

(39) Since writing this, she has arrived in Greece, and bears the pen- 
dant of Admiral Miauhs. 

" Ev twrtviv ^n Tiwc o"o<foyf i'^ui C<ov.' — Euripid : 

{*°) It seemed for a while as though the Opera would have rode tri- 
umphant over the Theatres of New York. But we are too downright 
a people for all this. What Goldsmith said of this amusement, in Great 
Britain, during his day, may be repeated here, in reference to its con- 
nexion with this country — notwithstanding Garcia sung an excellent 



35 

CXXIII. 

Alas for Edmund Kean, — Adanicoudet ! (*') 
But, on the whole, I think I'll hasten on — 
For howsoe'er your glad gay ones have view'd it, 
The story, it strikes me, is getting long — 
Besides, I would not for the world be weary, 
For with a dull review, I should be doubly dreary ! 

CXXIV. 
Hail, Philadelphia, city of straight lines ! 
With thy right angles, and right down good sense ; 
Home of America's divinest minds — 
Dead level of all ease and elegance ! 
Alas, you'll make but sad work with the General 
Since your bold Colonel prov'd his glory so ephemeral ! 

cxxv. 

Yet Mr. A****w J*****n, if inclin'd 
To be particularly wrangular 
In Presidential balderdash, will find ^ 

In coats and persons so rectangular. 
Although no rowdies, still a desperate people 
As cities ever must have, with a single steeple ! 

Giovanni, though the Signorina was enchanting, and Angrisani a most 
admirable Stentor. — " Upon the whole" says Goldsmith " I know not 
whether ever Operas can be kept up in England. They seem to be 
entirely exotic, and require the nicest management and care. In- 
stead of this the care of them is assigned to men, unacquainted with 
the genius and disposition of the people they would amuse. Whether 
a discontinuance of such entertainments would be more to the loss or 
the advantage of the nation, I will not take upon me to determine, 
since it is as much our interest to induce foreigners of taste among us 
on the one hand, as it is to discourage those trifling members of so- 
ciety who generally compose the operatical dramatis personcB on the 
other." — Goldsmith'' s Bee. 

('*') On January 8th and last Kean " bowed gracefully" (in Shy- 
lock !) at Drury Lane — but solicited no plaudits. 

" look ye ! 

Shall I bend low, and in a bondman's key 

With bated breath and whispering humbleness 

Say this — 

Fair siry you spit on me on Wednesday lasty 



.36 

CXXVI. 

They are no sticklers for the Treasury, 
And flatly flout all governmental fees, 
Because they meddle with their trade in tea — 
A matter between them and the Chinese ; 
Besides, what fool was ever over fond 
For such a silly weed, of coming under bond ! 

CXXVII. 

What has the year said of the mighty West ! 
Where Mr. C*^y roams forth his wrongs to tell ; 
Where he who can be bullet-proof is blest. 
And murder stalks " with conscience wide as hell" ! 
For lo ! they raise no steam upon a jury, (^^) 
In short, as the reviewers say, they act like fury. 

CXXVIII. 

There's Cincinnati, far beyond the rivers. 
Where they have churches, pavements, books and belles ; 
Where e'en the very poets are good livers — 
Where men read Greek, and every novel sells : 
Besides there's Knoxville, Nashville — but a hint 
Is worth all these hexameters — read Mr. Flint. (^^) 

CXXIX. 

So then, enough of this same Mississippi 
With its mocassin snakes and tall straight men ; 
Though into such long subjects just to dip, I 
Hold quite unseemly, yet 'tis one to ten 
That we should ne'er outlive these rhyming stories 
Should I sing all the West, its promise and its glories. 

(**) As to Desha — "evasit — erupit." There has been no conviction, 
because the jury thought it mercy to hang him. Can any one doubt 
that, as Washington said of Arnold, this man " is now suffering the 
torments of a mental hell" ? 

(*=») « Valley of the Mississippi." 



37 



CXXX. 

In that broad valley rolls a human tide — 

There mind, like its great waters, knows no stay; 

And noble hearts to noble thoughts allied 



But soft ! — there is the Cumberland highway ; 
Pray cross the x\lleghanies, at your leisure — 
I pass to the Reviewers, to — make out my measure. 

CXXXI. 

Alas for dulness ! what are < the Reviewers' ? 
Now help me, all ye sprites of etymology ! 
They are your real rev'rend Simon Pures ; — 
The beau-ideals of all craniology — 
A middling, meddling, self-created corps 
Like him, the Judge in Israel, Mr. Manuel Noah. 

CXXXII. 

The}' are but boys in breeches, after all — 
Smart, sneering, pert, half-sensible and shrewd ; 
Most indecorously dogmatical, 
And sometimes, 'tis confess'd, exceeding rude ; 
With much bravado and some little gumption, 
And a sad, singular surplusage of presumption. 

CXXXIII. 

They may be called the Brotherhood of Brains; 
Or, if you please. Proprietors of Reason — 
Who take all prudent, money-making pains 
To discount their crude notions through the season ; 
They never get an office, church or civil — 
And that's synonimous, in these days, with poor devil. 

CXXXIV. 

Oh thou notorious North American ! ("*) 
Trimonthly vehicle of wit and sense ! 
For whose subscription still thinks many a man, 
Five dollars, counterfeit, full recompence ! — 
Such is the blindness to all gold but cash. 
Such are the soul-less souls that call thy diamonds trash ! 

{**) Since writing the above a new candidate for public favour has 
appeared in the American Quarterly Review, just published by Messrs. 



38 

CXXXV. 

Thou art, bold book, our country's boast, and mine — 
Yet, bright octavo, hear one hint to thee : 
Laud less the lions, be less sachharine. 
And damn with fainter praise the coterie. 
Thou art too apt to lie for thy relations. 
Within the scope of Mrs. Opie's " Illustrations." 

CXXXVI. 

All coining rests with Congress. But behold ! 
On bald and treasonous self-authority 
This Journal to make words is wond'rous bold, 
Yet dares to talk of idiomacy ! 
Indeed it is but noelancholy fun. 
To see grave persons sport so with the Etymon ! 

CXXXYII. 

In short, though 'tis a glorifying Journal, 
And flings a morning splendour round our land. 
It has a faculty to be paternal, 
I can't particularly understand — 
But then, for classic castigation noted. 
It goes to Millers, London — sells there, and is quoted. 

CXXXYIII. 

Bantling divine ! United States Review ! 
Thou minor, junior North American, 
That dost excel in having nothing new 
To grace the pretty music of thy band, 
Be independent, and have less of lead 
Or Boston Monthly yet may chance to strike thee dead. (**) 

Carey and Lea. How far it will rival the established and talented 
Journal to which we refer, remains to be seen. Its appearance is cer- 
tainly highly promising. It issues from the home of learning and sci- 
ence, moreover. Of one thing however we feel confident — that if it 
become a rival, it will be such in the best sense of the word — and 
make its chief end the advancement of the great interests of literature. 
Divisum sic breve Jiet opus. — Mart. 
C*) The sometimes clever little Gazette above mentioned, [altera 
spes Roma !) has now nothing to fear on this score but the manes of 
the monthly — it expired suddenly. 



39 

CXXXIX. 

There is a lack-a-daisical desire 
To praise our dear acquaintance — this is puffing ; 
But when in this good work we never tire, 
Although no classic word, we call it stuffing ! 
Such is the " deep damnation" of this Journal, 
And, to speak honestly, I deem it quite infernal. 

CXL. 

These lordling editors must he more pliant — 
Their faultless, fine, particular friends be fewer, 
And they themselves no Popes. 1 grant a giant 
May be a peerless poet, to be sure, 
Perchance a lady's poet, quite endearing 
In all the sensibilities of sonnetteering — 

CXLl. 

But for grim-visag'd criticism, he. 
When iron genius shadows o'er his way 
May find a glorious incapacity — 
So different from a meek, mellifluous lay ! 
For how can Fancy bide with that grave sense 
That battens on obliquities of style and tense ! 

CXLII. 

Fair ladies write our novels — and alas ! 
They should have pensions for their desperation — = 
Where lore is little and romance a farce. 
And their best heroes boast a copper nation ! 
Oh ! for a thousand years of sleepy hollow 
Then poems, tales, romaunts, may reasonably follow. 

CXLIII. 

Yet we read novels — and those horrid tales 
That frighten our young souls out — at the hour 
When grave-yard spirit through the dim air trails, 
And shadowy spectres hold oppressive power ! 
The best of romances is Jasper Murphy's, 
Erst reverend gondolier o'er fancy's stygian surface. 



40 

CXLIV. 

But then for trap-doors in America, 
Or reputable robbers, ghosts, or ruins, 
Or interesting ensigns on half pay. 
We've no such hazy, old and desperate doings : 
Enough for us and ours, immortal Jove ! 
Is Bunker Hill and General Washington in love ! 

CXLV. 

Yet gentlemen in health, and deem'd quite wise, 
Print tales of these dark savages — but then 
'Tis thought the Indian Chief who drew the prize 
Will buy them up as libels. Your Red Men 
Are no such nincums as to stand the chance 
Of passing, with green girls for heroes of romance ! 

CXLVI. 

Two stanzas more must finish this sad song. 
And one must be for Europe. A dull story 
And for my purpose, just now, far too long 
To tell of all its infamy and glory. — 
But still improvement and the Tunnel speed 
While, politics or ton, George Canning ("*') takes the lead. 

CXLVII. 

And ye, immaculate United States ! 
Most blessed, unexceptionable nation ! — 
Your Hectors seem determin'd at all rates 
To prove the muscle of Administration ! 
But then their measures are against all rhyme 
As well as reason 

CXLVIII. 

But hold ! — again the Congress doors fling wide, 
And lo ! again " the spouters have all met" — 
I'll wait a season 

* * ^ ^ 

***** 

(*'') See the accounts of Mr. Canning in Paris — those relating to 
Sir Walter Scott are no less amusing. 







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